Rory slammed the door shut. Snart didn’t wait another second to throw himself at him. He got instantly caught in a vicious lock and thrown unceremoniously onto the bed. His clothes were swiftly pushed out of the way and the rope that bit his wrists again was tied to the bedpost. Seconds later, his ankles received the same treatment. He shivered in anticipation, relishing what was going to happen. A sharp sound behind him made him reconsider suddenly and his shivers turned to a churning feeling that he might have overstepped somehow.

“So, Snart, let me explain in terms you will understand.” Rory’s voice was reasonable and it somehow made it much, much worse. Rory was heat and passion, not cold reason. Snart shivered expectantly. “When it comes to sex, I get to decide. Not you. This is the last time you ever try to boss me around about this. You will obey me or god help me, I’ll make you regret that you didn’t.”

Snart whimpered piteously and was instantly ashamed that Mick could reduce him to this submissive state.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t. I’ll make sure you remember that. Ten blows I think. You will learn not to test me. Do you understand?”

As Leonard froze and failed to answer, he repeated.

“I said do you understand?” He reacted on an instinct he didn’t know he possessed.

“Yes sir!”

Rory growled. “Now that’s more like it. And Snart, I want you to count.”

Mick didn’t do anything to prepare him to what he had coming and the first blow wiped his mind clean of everything but the sheer pain of it. He was still reeling from it when he dimly remembered to count.


The second blow was just as devastating and he still wasn’t ready for it. He counted again. The third blow had him cry out with pain. With four, a wanton moan of pure lust escaped his lips and it took him two more blows to realize just how much he loved the brutality with which Mick was thrashing him. By the time he reached ten, he was writhing on the mattress, desperately trying to bore into it to get some release. He dimly felt his bonds being untied. A strong pair of arms turned him on his back and he gasped, reaching down to stroke himself. His hands got slapped away and he heard Mick calling his name. The voice had a sharp quality that begged not to be ignored, or else. He answered quiveringly.

“Yes sir.”

“You are not to touch yourself in any way and you will not come unless I give you permission. I will know if you disobey. I decide when you come. I decide when you get dragged into bed. I own you. Get it?”

“Yes sir.”


Len heard footsteps retreating and the door closing. He raised his head and stared incredulously at the now empty room. Was Mick seriously going to leave him like this? It seemed his punishment wasn’t what he’d thought it would be. He tried to rise and almost gave up. His skin felt like it would to crack open and the muscles underneath were knotted in tight coils about to snap.

He made his way gingerly to the bathroom, thought about trying to find the aloe gel then thought it was best not to test Mick anymore today by rummaging through his closet. He took a long tepid shower, unable to decide if cold was better to soothe his burning skin or hot to unknit his tensed muscles.

Eventually his erection subsided. It was almost noon when he felt he could safely face the rest of the team and made his way back into the common space.

Series Navigation<< Brothers

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